


i'll try to come back home

by dhils



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, M/M, fucking uhhhhh teleporation i guess, miscommunication if ya want!:)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-26
Updated: 2018-10-26
Packaged: 2019-08-07 15:57:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16411520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dhils/pseuds/dhils
Summary: Nico blinks once, twice, and he’s in his room again.





	i'll try to come back home

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this literally 20 years ago after watching jumper and for the sake of your sanity, try not to logic this au out :) i know i can’t!
> 
> i'm only writing hisch/patty for the rest of my life
> 
> title from blink by kevin abstract

It’s been happening for as long as Nico can remember, soulmates sharing each other’s worlds, popping in and out until they meet one another. The first time is different for just about everyone, and Nico doesn’t fully understand it when it happens to him. 

He’s walking home from school one minute and on the other end of a table in a cafeteria he doesn’t actually remember visiting the next. There’s a kid sitting across from him, his head snapping up with a second’s delay. 

“Oh,” he says, slowly setting down his phone. There’s confusion wrought deep into his expression, settling over his eyes until Nico’s sure they’re both equally as perplexed about this.

“Uh.” Nico shifts the arm of his backpack slung over his shoulder, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings. There are kids chattering away at a nearby table—which doesn’t make any sense because he swears they should’ve been dismissed by now. Back at his school at least. “Where am I?” 

The kid pushes his brows together. “The cafeteria,” he says, pretty vaguely. “Where did you— _what_?”

“I don’t know,” he answers, hoping that helps at least somewhat more than _the cafeteria_. Nico can see that pretty well. “I really don’t think I’m supposed to be here.”

“Yeah, no kidding.” He looks thoughtful for a second, before a smile creeps over his lips. “I guess since you’re here, I’m Nolan.”

Nico scratches the back of his neck, still unsure of where he is and how to get out. “I’m Nico.” He holds his gaze tentatively, too blue and earnest around the edges. “But, I mean, you can call me whatever, I guess.”

“Whatever,” Nolan says.

“Not—not whatever, specifically.” 

“Too late.” He looks real fucking smug, like it’s the funniest joke he’s ever made. “How long are you staying?”

“Until I have to go back, probably.” It’s the most specific he can be, considering he doesn’t even know where he is. “What state are we in?”

Nolan presses his lips into a thin pink line. “Manitoba isn’t a state.” 

“Providence?”

“ _Province_. Welcome to Canada,” he corrects, which isn’t exactly Nico’s bad. He’s lived within the confines of Switzerland for years, Canada’s the last thing on his mind. 

“I’ve never been here,” Nico confims, and he doesn’t mean for it to come out as hesitant it does.

Nolan’s eyes light up at that, and his smile twitches back up. “I can show you around. I mean, I’ve got 30 minutes until my next class. I can show you, like, a convenience store or something.”

Nico smiles and goes along with it.

 

 

Nico doesn’t think he has control over the world sharing thing, neither him _or_ Nolan, because he’s brushing his teeth for bed when someone pops up on the counter next to him.

It makes Nico jump, and he nearly chokes on his brush. It’s definitely not a good look. “Holy shit,” he hisses, after spitting tooth paste out into the sink. “You scared the shit out of me.”

Nolan’s laughing his ass off, still perched up on the counter. His feet don’t reach the floor. “I don’t know how it happened, man, I was just in class.” He’s scratching the back of his neck. “What time is it here?”

“Like,” Nico pauses to shrug, “10 pm, I guess. You were _in class_?” 

“Damn.” Nolan swings his legs. “Our time zone difference is so fucked, move to Winnipeg so I can bug you at a more reasonable hour.” 

“Yeah, right, when hell freezes over, maybe.” 

“You’re getting this all wrong,” Nolan says, clicking his tongue. “Winnipeg _is_ hell, and it’s frozen. We can go sledding together. You should pop in when it snows again.”

The thing is: that actually sounds like a lot of fun. Nico’s always loved sledding and skiing, it’s pretty hard to live in Switzerland without falling in love with winter sports, especially because he keeps hockey oh-so-dear to his heart. But he has no idea how exactly to _pop in_. It just happens. “Is there any way I can control it? I can visit you with a jacket on so I don’t freeze and die.”

Nolan makes a considering noise. “I mean, you got me out of a class and I was feeling pretty fucking miserable. So, maybe, like, pretend you’ll die if you don’t see me in the next five minutes.”

Nico rolls his eyes at him, but still keeps his focus screwed to the smug smile Nolan’s flashing at him. “I could last five years without you, I’ve been doing pretty well on my own so far, thanks for asking.”

“Sure, you _say_ that, but you’re just denying your true feelings.” Nolan shrugs. ”I get it, denial comes before acceptance.”

Nico makes a noise crossed between a groan and a yawn behind his hand, mostly because he can barely keep his eyes open while also being pretty overwhelmed by Nolan’s bullshit. It’s not a good combination in the slightest. “Accept what, exactly.”

“That I changed your life.”

Nico tries not to roll his eyes too hard, he doesn’t wanna give himself a strain. “You’ll change my life when you leave me alone,” he says. 

“Hey!”

“As in let me get some sleep,” Nico confirms mildly, making his way out of the bathroom and assuming Nolan’s following him. When he looks over his shoulder he is, saying something about how _he’d_ like to get some sleep, too, but school is a bitch. 

“I mean,” Nico starts, considers what he’s about to say. “You _could_ sleep, if you wanted to. Until you get sent back at least.”

Nolan looks like he’s working it out in his head. “Like, in your bed.”

“Yeah, I mean, why not.” It’s not weird or anything. Nico’s shared beds with guys before, teammates, and this is his _soulmate_ for crying out loud. It doesn’t feel very much like it yet, the bond isn’t strong enough, but Nico could get used to it. Sometimes it’s nice not to sleep alone. “You might wrinkle your clothes, and maybe end up asleep on your desk, but you’ll be _asleep_.” He wiggles his eyebrows like he’s trying to sell the idea to him, a small smile on his face. 

Nolan laughs. “Yeah, okay, that sounds good,” he says. “We can do that.”

Nolan rejects Nico’s offer of borrowing a shirt, telling him it won’t be the end of the world if he ends up in class with an askew sweatshirt. People might, like, assume shit, but that’s about as bad as it’ll get. 

The thought of it makes Nico’s face go hot, and he decides to ignore it to coax Nolan into cuddling because his sheets are fucking freezing, and from the way Nolan agrees so quickly he assumes he can’t take the cold either. Or maybe the guy’s just into cuddling, Nico can totally get behind that. 

Nolan drapes an arm over his waist, it’s not a heavy weight, but it’s _noticeable_ , like Nico’s never been fucking hugged or something. He just can’t get his mind off of it, or the way Nolan presses his nose into his shoulder, or just—Nolan in general. He’s warm, and solid, and _there_ , and Nico tries not to analyze it too much, but it’s a little too late for that.

“What’s on your mind? I can literally hear you thinking.” Nolan lets out a little laugh, it’s breathy against the fabric of his shirt. Nico’s glad he doesn’t have to look at him, because he’d probably fuck up speaking in general, so he opts to stare up at the ceiling. 

“It’s nothing,” Nico promises. “Just gonna miss you.”

“I’m right here,” Nolan says, but there’s something sincere in his voice, and Nico knows he doesn’t have to explain himself. Not this time. “Try to relax, you got a big day tomorrow.” 

“You don’t even know what I do in a day.”

“C’mon, let me be supportive,” Nolan mumbles, and Nico can feel the smile he presses into his shoulder. 

Nico laughs quietly. He wonders if it’d be okay to put his hand on Nolan’s, but he’s not sure how welcomed it’d be. “You’re right, my bad.”

Nolan shifts and then his head is right on Nico’s shoulder. He doesn’t complain, mostly because it’s comfortable, but also because it makes his heart flutter in his chest. He’s glad they can do this. 

“You should visit soon,” Nolan tells him quietly. 

“I will,” Nico says. Like he can control it.

“Good.” Nolan presses a kiss to his collarbone. “Go to sleep now, ‘m tired.”

Nico’s not sure just when his breathing evens out and he drifts off, but Nolan’s not there in the morning.

 

 

Something about the crisp air in hockey rinks always works to ease up his stress, the familiar sensation of blades cutting the ice, the tranquility of an empty arena, together it’s something right on the edges of heaven. 

Nico can hear the sound of his own ragged breathing while he takes shots on the net, the loudest sound between them being his skates when he coasts to a stop. He doesn’t have a practice with Bern SC, not today, but he swears he could still feel the rink calling for him, his fingers itching to get on a stick. 

Afterwards, he’s waiting outside the arena for his ride, duffle bag thrown over his shoulder and his stick in his left hand. He’s too busy watching the way his breath comes out white to prepare himself for the hand on his shoulder, and the sharp, “Hey!” in his ear.

Nico yelps and stumbles away, throwing the nastiest glare he can muster at whoever decided trying to shatter his eardrums was a good idea.

It fades a little, once he realizes the kid staring back at him is Nolan, his face split into an amused smile. “I said, hey.”

“You have to stop creeping up on me like that,” Nico says, training his eyes on the pink blooming up on Nolan’s cheeks. Nico wants to reach out and trace his blush pattern with his fingers, it’d be so easy. He pushes away the urge to tell him, “Wow, you look like shit.”

Nolan shoves at his shoulder. “I literally woke up five minutes ago, it’s not my problem the universe decided you were missing me.” His hair is a little longer than it had been last time they’d seen each other, but a mess all the same. It’s stupid. And endearing. 

“Was not,” Nico says stubbornly, ignoring the fact that he’s always missing Nolan. He swears it feels like they’ve known each other their entire lives.

Nolan’s eyes land on his stick, and he’s suddenly smiling again. “Wait, you play?” He gestures at it.

“I guess,” Nico says humbly. “Here and there.”

Nolan smiles. “I bet you’re amazing.” It’s good enough of a compliment to make Nico duck his head a little, laughing down at the ground. 

“What about you?”

“Yeah,” Nolan says. “Here and there, just like you.”

“Pretty humble, huh?” Nico’s not sure if he’s just imagining it, but Nolan’s gaze is unfairly blue when he’s this close. It makes him look like a piece of art, contrasting the pink of his lips and—fuck. He’s staring.

Nolan makes a face at him. It’s not disapproving, something more like he’s acknowledging Nico blatantly staring at his lips. If he can tell, he doesn’t mention it. “You should come to one of my games one day,” he says. “I’ll get you a puck. And a free jersey.”

Nico scoffs. “Hotshot,” he jokes, even if he’d actually like that. A lot.

Nolan laughs and then he shivers, pulling his sleeves up over his fingers and blowing hot air into his palms. So, not all Canadians are immune to the cold, Nico guesses. Who would’ve figured.

“You okay?” He asks.

“Yeah, uh.” Nolan knits his brows together, clearly uncomfortable with the weather. “Just frozen.”

“Aw, c’mere, I’ll keep you warm,” Nico teases, outstretching his free arm for Nolan to press into his side. He takes Nico up on it without chirping him, which is new, blowing out a slow breath when Nico pulls him in a little closer. “We good?”

“Yeah,” Nolan says, and Nico can hear the smile in his voice. 

 

 

“You have, like, really great eyebrows,” Nolan says. He’s lying next to Nico in bed, and they’re both staring up at the ceiling.

Nico breathes out a laugh in response, and Nolan quickly adds, “No, seriously, like banger eyebrows. They’re probably your most memorable feature.”

“Are they really?” Nico asks, because honestly, being known for his eyebrows of all things is pretty dumb. 

“I mean, that and your smile,” Nolan says, sounding shy. “I really like your smile.”

Nico bites the inside of his lip, reaching out to put his hand over Nolan’s. “I like your smile, too.”

He blinks once, twice, and he’s in his room again.

 

 

Nico moves to Halifax.

It’s just about the biggest move he’s ever made, across the fucking ocean, and his heart aches with hiraeth every few days, missing the Alps, his home, and the freedom that comes with living in a tiny town like he did back in Switzerland. 

Don’t get him wrong. He likes the Mooseheads. Camp is fun, and he’s getting a lot more media attention than he ever had with Bern SC, but there’s still that longing for home settling in his heart. He misses it.

“Are you okay?” Nolan’s voice is quiet when he hears it, and he looks up to see him sitting down on the floor in front of him.

“Yeah,” he says. It’s not a lie. It’s just. Bending the truth.

“Nico—what’s wrong?” Nolan asks, looking concerned. His eyes dance around the room for a moment, and then, “Where _are_ we? This isn’t your room?”

Nico breathes in slow, because not even he’s used to it yet. “Halifax,” he manages, his voice dry. 

Nolan moves so he’s sitting next to Nico, back pressed to the wall. He settles a warm hand on Nico’s knee, and it helps him feel a little better. More grounded. Nolan’s like the piece of home that’ll follow him no matter where he goes.

“You wanna talk about it?”

“I live here now,” Nico continues. It comes out a little more bitter than he’d intended, sharp around the edges like its a complaint. He doesn’t mean that.

“Oh, _Nico_ ,” Nolan says quietly, and he tightens his grip on Nico’s knee, gives him a reassuring squeeze. “When I said move to Canada I didn’t think you’d actually do it.”

That gets a smile out of him, it’s reluctant, but he feels the corner of his lips twitch upwards anyways. “It’s for family stuff,” he lies. “Don’t worry about me.”

“Okay,” Nolan nods. “Is there anything I can do?” 

Nico sets his hand on Nolan’s, thinking he might start crying when Nolan flips his over to intertwine their fingers. “Stay?” 

He already knows Nolan can’t. That he has no say in it, but Nico wants to forget that. He wants to stop being terrified of losing him over and over, being so close and so fucking far all at once. 

Nico braces himself for what Nolan might say, but all that comes out is, “I’ll try.” And it’s enough.

 

The year goes on like that.

Nico plays hockey, scores some goals, and the media attention on him keeps heightening. It’s new and unfamiliar, a little suffocating, but Nico still welcomes it. He tries not to act nervous when microphones get shoved in his face, trying not to trip over his words or mess up pronunciations.

Sometimes he’ll visit Nolan, and sometimes Nolan will visit him. It’s always unexpected. At the latest hours of the night, or the earliest of the morning, but Nico loves every moment they spend together, that break he gets from hockey, that time he gets to spend in Nolan’s arms. 

He learns, pretty quickly, too, that Nolan’s an amazing kisser. He also realizes that he _really_ likes kissing him, straddling his hips while getting lost in the warm press of their lips, or just breathing into Nolan’s mouth while holding him close. It’s something else.

And then, he makes it to WJC. The call he gets is one of the greatest things he’s ever received, short and to the point, but Nico still can’t believe it, even if the media had already been projecting it, for a while now actually, it’s still a relief when he hears it.

The days melt into weeks, and WJC is so close, approaching rapidly, and then—someone asks him if he’s disappointed to not be able to play against Nolan Patrick at the tourney.

Nico opens his mouth and shuts it again. 

 

 

“Shit,” Nico says, when he finds himself in Nolan’s room again. He’s only just getting the news straight from Nolan’s mouth, about his injury, void of any detail.

“It’s not a big deal,” Nolan says, laughing a little. “I’ll survive.”

“No, that’s not—“ He cuts himself off, the gears in his brain turning. A voice in his head asks if he’s disappointed to miss out on playing against Nolan Patrick, and everything feels a little fuzzy. 

“Nico, are you okay—“

“You’re Nolan Patrick,” he says. He almost cringes at how accusatory he sounds.

“I—“ Nolan blinks at him, his face falls a little. Nico wishes he knew why. “Yeah. Yes, I—I am.”

Nico stares at the floor for a beat, unsure of just what to do with this information. Fuck, Nolan’s going first at the draft. Nico’s soulmates with _that_ Nolan. It’s hard to wrap his head around. He can’t. 

“Is that okay?” Nolan asks slowly. Stops. “Wait.”

Nico breathes out, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Oh, my god.”

“No way, you—“ It finally clicks, Nico can see it on his face. “We’re _rivals_. We—I’m supposed to hate you!” He’s laughing, big and bright, and he looks so fucking beautiful. “You never told me!”

“I barely knew you,” Nico argues. “Or, well, I barely knew Nolan Patrick.” His smile feels a little shaky, because he’s finally meeting this kid he keeps getting compared to, finally meeting the so-called threat the media has prosed for him, and Nico—thinks he loves him. “Can you imagine if this got out? The entire world would be a mess.”

“No kidding,” Nolan chuckles. “Way to kill, like, 50 birds with one stone.” 

Nico blows out a breath. “ _Wow_.”

“I know.”

He looks over at him. “So, no World Juniors?”

“No World Juniors.”

 

 

The first time Nico met Nolan was in an unfamiliar highschool somewhere in Manitoba, crowded by new faces and strange accents. 

The first time Nico Hischier meets Nolan Patrick is on the ice in Quebec City. They’re not skating, or playing a game, instead waiting around before the captains’ photo shoot. Nico feels his heart skip when Nolan catches his gaze.

“Holy shit,” Nolan says, and he looks like he’s going to pull Nico into a hug, stopping himself at the last second. Nico might be losing his mind.

“You’re—you’re really here,” he says, and glances around to confirm the photographer hasn’t shown up yet. “Nolan, you’re here.”

“Yeah.” He laughs, it’s breathy. They’ve known each other for over two years now, but there’s still something so special about seeing him like this, knowing that this is real. 

Nico wants to kiss him. He wants Nolan to pull him in and never let go, but they’re supposed to be meeting for the first time. They’re supposed to be N vs N, and getting caught making out at centre ice might not look so great to the public eye. 

Despite that, Nico still kisses the tip of his nose, pulling away quick enough that it’s barely just the brush of his lips. It’s safer that way. Even if it leaves Nico dizzy for more. 

“I can’t wait to get back to our room,” he says, and Nolan’s flushed already.

“You trying to get in my head, Hischier?”

“Me? Absolutely not.”

When the photographer comes in, she says, “I hope you two are playing nice,” and Nolan gives Nico this secretive smile. He doesn’t leave his side.


End file.
